Jack the Ripper Tells The Story of Your Life

We have a voice in our head talking.

This voice tells The Story of our lives.

Every thing we experience is parsed and placed according to its proper location within that story.

In adolescence and early adulthood, we try out a few versions of that story.

At some point, we settle on one.

The world is this way. People are that way. Things are better now than before, or they’re worse. That’s the way it’s always been, and the way it always will be.

This is called “getting old”.

Every once in a while ,something happens which doesn’t quite fit.

We get fired from our job. War. A partner leaves us. Disaster. Where did that light come from? Famine. That sure did look like a sasquatch…

For a moment, that narrator in our minds is rendered speechless. The mind searches frantically for some way to fit this event into our Story.

This is called cognitive dissonance.

When this happens, a couple reactions are possible.

First, our story changes.

This is not likely to occur.

We usually forget about it and go on as if nothing happened.

As Winston Churchill said, “Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened.”

One of the best conspiracy theories of all time concerns Mr. Churchill.

It says that Winston Churchill’s father was Jack the Ripper.

Churchill’s father was himself a noteworthy politician in the UK.

As the story goes, the Jack the Ripper killings were not your garden variety unsolved, serial murders by a shadowy psychopath.

Rather, they were committed by the elder Churchill to cover up crimes perpetuated by the Royals, Free Masons, and the usual suspects.

I wonder if Winston ever considered if man’s seeming aversion to reality is a feature and not a bug?

Imagine if the theory were true, that Winston Churchill — a leader of the Allies and a patriarch of our current iteration of Western Civilization — was the son of a serial killer…

If the whole story of the world was a lie, then whose story would you believe?

Your own.